


Not Alone

by HarleysAStarBoi



Category: Spider-Man (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Harry Osborn, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Harry Osborn, M/M, Mentions of kidnapping, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter is a Little Shit, Protective Harry Osborn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22802944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarleysAStarBoi/pseuds/HarleysAStarBoi
Summary: When Peter gets his powers, he quickly learns that he isn't alone. The others decide to train him, even if Peter doesn't like it.
Relationships: Anya Sofia Corazon/Gwen Stacy, Harry Osborn/Peter Parker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Not Alone

Peter blinked rapidly against the bright sunlight. It’s been three days since he’s developed these spider-powers, and their strength is only increasing. Yesterday he broke a glass just by picking it up, and today he’d nearly broken his dresser when he tripped and grabbed onto it to restabilize. He needs to get control of these powers and fast if he ever wants to lead a semi-normal life. He looked out the just-opened window and groaned, knowing that even though it was the weekend, he had a long day ahead of him, what with band practice coming up. He crossed his arms and sat on the bed again, slightly debating on skipping. Though he seriously considered it, he knew he wouldn’t, and in the end, he’d go, despite how much he’d rather not. He stood up again and quickly dressed. As he began to exit his room, he was careful not to slam the doors, knowing if he did he would break the hinges and that was the last thing May needed to worry about now. He closed the door gently and began his way down the stairs, a delicious smell filling his enhanced senses. He took a deep breath as he entered the kitchen, sighing in relief as he saw May making breakfast. “Morning, Aunt May.” He greeted eagerly, sliding into the kitchen.

May chuckled at the sight of her nephew’s sleep-mussed hair. “Good morning, Peter.” She greeted me back. “Would you like breakfast?”

Peter nodded. “What’re you making?” He asked, despite the fact that he had a clear view of the scrambled eggs in the pan.

“Eggs,” She replied happily.

Peter nodded, though May couldn’t see him. He turned and walked into the living room, watching the TV play the morning news. There wasn’t much happening quite yet, as he watched flashes of different events happening worldwide. He huffed and walked back into the dining area as May brought out a plate of eggs and handed it to him. “Go bring this to your uncle, he’s in the garage.” She added, patting his shoulder lightly. 

Peter nodded. “Okay,” 

He walked into the dining area, just in front of the stairs, and through the garage door into the garage, where his uncle was working on a wood carving. Peter walked in, seeing him working on whittling a letter opener. “Uncle Ben,” He called, stepping beside him.

Ben looked up and smiled at the sight of him. “Hey, Pete. What’s up?”

“Aunt May made breakfast.” He said, placing the plate in front of him.

Ben immediately smiled and put the knife and half-finished letter opener. “Your aunts cooking is unparalleled, Peter.” 

Peter nodded. “Well, that’s just common knowledge.” He agreed.

Ben laughed. “You got that right kiddo, don’t you ever forget it.” 

Peter smiled as he picked up the half-made letter opener. “This looks super good!” He complimented, turning it over to see the smooth back.

Ben grinned. “I just got done with the handle and I sandpapered the back, I’ll be working on the front in a bit.” 

Peter smiled. “Maybe you can whittle something for me!” He replied excitedly.

Ben laughed. “Well your birthday’s coming up kiddo, maybe I’ll make you something special.” 

Peter could see the cogs turning in his brain. He was already thinking of something to make. Peter smiled, before pointing to the doorway into the house. “I’m gonna go eat, then head out to band practice.” He replied.

Ben nodded. “Alright kiddo, be safe.”

Peter nodded. “I will!” 

He reentered the house in time to see May placing a plate of eggs on the table for him. “Thanks, Aunt May!” He chirped, sliding into the seat. 

May chuckled and attempted to smooth down his hair again. “You’re welcome, Peter.”

He began eating the eggs quickly, his metabolism having sped up to impossible rates. When he finished, he was quick to run upstairs to the bathroom to attempt to smooth down his hair. After a bit of morning routine, including brushing his teeth, lotion, skincare, makeup, and wiping down the bathroom counter and sink, Peter felt satisfied enough with his progress to return to his room to pull on his shoes. When he was finally ready, he was quick to return downstairs to leave. He waved goodbye to May, before stepping out the door and closing it tight behind him. He walked to the bus stop a couple of blocks away and sat in the chair, waiting silently for the bus to arrive. After about ten minutes, the bus arrived, on time for once, and Peter took a seat in the front, closest to the door. He yawned and looked out the window, feeling a sense of unease and discomfort, as the bus began towards a nearby subway station. He pulled out his phone and texted Harry. 

Peter 10:42 am:  
Hey Har, still wanna meet at Joe’s later?

Harry 10:42 am:  
Yeah, 3?

Peter 10:43 am:  
Sounds good! See u then

He switched to Tumblr and began scrolling absentmindedly through #shitpost. When he felt the bus halt, he glanced up to see two people get on, before the bus continued again. He hummed and looked back at his phone. It was only about ten minutes before the bus stopped at the subway. Peter pocketed his phone and stepped off the bus, quickly descending into the subway. He heard whispers behind him and turned to see the two men who had gotten on the bus just after him. As he turned, the two went silent and continued following. Something in Peter's stomach told him to run, to get away as fast as he could. He unconsciously sped up and felt a rush of relief when he saw a woman waiting for the subway ahead of him. He quickly began walking towards her, hoping the woman would understand what was happening. He quickly got to her side and turned to her. "Is it okay if I sit with you for a little bit?" He asked, his blood roaring in his ears and his heart pounding. 

The woman turned to him and grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that." 

Before Peter could step away from her, she sprayed something in his face. It smelled sweet but it _burned_. Peter let out a panicked cry and attempted to slap her away when he felt someone grab him from behind. He screamed for help when someone covered his mouth with a cloth. He frantically kicked and thrashed against the man, even using his newfound superpowers to try to throw him off, but the man was so much stronger than him and managed to hold him in place. He felt a painful shock in his side, sending his head reeling. Peter's already blurred vision began to fade out and his limbs felt weak as he struggled to breathe through the cloth. He felt the man pin him to the ground, the cloth still firmly pressed against his lips as he gave one more pitiful attempt at crying for help. His cries weren't answered, however, as the dizziness overcame him and he couldn't find the strength to fight back. 

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

It was cold as he awoke. His head throbbed, he felt nauseous, and he couldn't stop shaking, both from fear and the freezing room. He let out a whimper and winced at how painfully dry his throat was. He took a painful breath and wheezed out, "H-hello?" His voice was quiet and shaky, but it was there. 

He swallowed, only succeeding in causing more pain to his throat, before pulling at his bindings. Whether they were strong or he was weak, he couldn't tell. All he knew was that he needed to get out somehow. He heard heavy footsteps moving toward his direction. He gasped and began yanking desperately at his chains. He couldn't see, a cloth was covering his eyes, a blindfold. He was sitting in a chair, a metal one, with his legs taped together with several layers of duct tape. His arms were tied behind the back seat, with the bindings tied to one of the several thick rods that made up the backrest. As he frantically thrashed against the bindings, he felt tears well in his eyes and he let out a pained and fearful sob. His mind spun with thoughts as the footsteps got progressively louder and his shaking only got worse. A part of him wanted to call for his mom, another part wanted to call for uncle ben, but the loudest noise in his mind was, uncharacteristically, screaming for Harry. His tears were absorbed by the cloth as he kicked against the tape, succeeding next to nothing. He pulled desperately against the metal bindings on his wrists and felt the metal cut into his skin, hot blood dripping down his hands and onto the floor. He heard the footsteps suddenly speed up and he attempted to scream, only getting a weak and airy noise out of his throat. He felt someone grab his shoulders harshly. "Would you stop? We don't need you dying before we figure out what to do with you." A gruff voice snapped. 

Peter let out a panicked sob and attempted to kick against the man. "I swear to fuck I should be getting paid for this bullcrap."

Peter tugged fearfully against the restraints, before feeling the man grab his face. "Stop struggling for christ's sake, you aren't going to get out. We had this built with your powers in mind, I don't care how strong you _think_ you are, you won't get out of here. Now stop before we have to amputate your fucking hands or some shit."

Peter felt his stomach drop and fell still, shaking and whimpering. He felt a hand wipe his hair away from his forehead, before sliding down his arm to examine it. The man moved behind him and Peter let out a fearful sob as he felt him touch the still-bleeding cuts on his wrist before he heard a loud sigh. “Stop moving, I’ll be right back,” and the hands disappeared.

He tugged weakly at the restraints again, before falling still against the cold air once more. _Am I gonna die here? Is this how I die?_ Those thoughts repeated in his head when he heard footsteps coming towards him again. This time, there were many more footsteps. Several people were coming towards him. He felt his eyes burn again as he let out another weak sob, weakly tugging at the restraints and trembling against the freezing air. “Please, please, please don’t- I- please…” He choked out. 

He heard the footsteps stop for a moment before a single set of feet approached him. He felt a cold hand touch his cheek and he violently flinched back, before hearing a gentle voice shush him. “Relax, it’s okay, we won’t hurt you.” He promised gently. It was a different man than before, this one sounded older.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and felt more tears get absorbed into the blindfold. “Please...I wanna go home… just… just let me go, please.” He choked out, his trembling getting worse.

The cold hand flinched slightly before he felt something touch his lips. “It’s water,” The man explained.

Uncomfortably cold water fell into his mouth as the man tilted the water bottle up. Peter drank as much as he could, the cool liquid soothing his sore throat and helping to chase away the bitterness of nausea that had found a place in his stomach. He heard soft murmurs across from him, but he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Much to his displeasure, the water bottle pulled away from his lips. The cold hand that had been resting on his cheek, moved to the blindfold, and he felt the man carefully pull it off. His sensitive eyes were bombarded with a bright light as the man discarded the blindfold into his pocket. Peter squinted, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted when he could finally analyze the man. He was very tall, probably 6’6”, he had short, greying hair, dark skin, and brown eyes. He seemed gentle, as he moved behind Peter and began using the remaining water from the water bottle to wash Peter’s bloody hands. He felt sick to his stomach as the people in front of him murmured to one another again. He wanted desperately to know what they were saying, but his ears were ringing too loudly to discern one word from another. He managed to make out a few small phrases, some being, “we can’t”, “this doesn’t feel right”, “he’s too young”, and, “he’ll be pissed”. He managed to pick up on a few other words, that sent his heart rate skyrocketing, kill, train, hide, entertain, he wasn’t quite sure what the correlation between all of them was, but he could tell it wasn’t anything good. He tried to examine what the others looked like, but the world wouldn’t stop spinning. The man who had given him water stepped in front of him and kneeled down, a calm and kind look on his face. “Now kid, I’m going to release you, but you need to stay calm, understand?”

“Hobie wait-”

“Deacon, we aren’t killing a child.”

“Hobie, if we don’t kill him boss’ gonna kill _us_.”

“Boss won’t know about this.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

“Patton! Language,”

“Hobie, you know how much I hate siding with Patton, but he’s right.”

Peter’s head stopped spinning enough for him to discern one from another as he looked up at the figures. There were 8 people, the tallest of the bunch was a dark-brown haired man named Patton from what the man beside him, “Hobie”, had said. There was a younger man with light chestnut hair and thin-rimmed glasses who Hobie had called Deacon. The one who had last spoken was a short tanned girl with her mid-length curly hair. She sort of reminded him of Nora West-Allen from The Flash. Before he could continue to examine them, Hobie turned his face to look back at him. “I won’t repeat myself again, I’m going to release you, but you can’t run, understand? If you try to run, we will catch you.” 

Peter shivered at the threat before nodding frantically. Hobie nodded, seeming satisfied, and Peter felt the powerful cuffs come loose. His sore wrists relished in the newfound freedom provided, as Peter quickly examined the deep cuts. Hobie took his forearm gently, making him jump, and covered the injuries in a web-like material. Peter stared in awe. “How- how did you-”

“Don’t ask questions, feet.” He ordered.

Peter shut his mouth and kicked his feet forward, as Hobie pulled out scissors and cut through the tape. “Now, you’re going to do exactly as we say, alright?”

Peter nodded as blood rushed to his numb feet, giving him an uncomfortable tingling sensation. “On your feet,” He ordered calmly. 

Peter, seeing no other option, obeyed. He moved from side to side, waiting for the tingling to disperse, before watching the people in front of him. He was scared, he wanted to go home, but for now, all he could do was obey until he can find an opportunity to run. Peter watched as the man beckoned him along, in front of the strangers. “Hello, Peter Parker. My name is Hobie Brown, I take it you were recently bitten by a red and blue spider?” He questioned.

Peter felt his blood run cold and he nodded. “Uhm.. yes?”

“And since then, you’ve experienced some… changes? Increased strength, senses, speed?” 

Peter could feel his heart pound even harder in his chest as he nodded. “Y-yes, sir?”

Hobie nodded and pointed to each of the others. “Meet Patton Parnel, Myla Mitchell, Jack Lee, Deacon Sanders, Mordred Hapsburg, Rue Kennedy, and Timothy Pechman.” He said, pointing to each of the figures in front of him.

The people were watching Hobie with curious gazes, they didn’t know what he was doing and they were curious. He felt Hobie touch his shoulder. “They all have the same powers as you, some having more powers, but the fact is we all have experienced the same thing you are.”

Peter stared at them. “Wh- wait wait wait what?!”

“And since you have no idea how powerful you are, and how powerful you can be, we are going to train you.”

“I DIDN’T AGREE TO THIS!” Rue suddenly screamed.

“Hobie- you gotta warn us before dropping this shit on us! What the fuck- we’re training him?! He’s what- 12?” Timothy questioned.

“I’m 15!” Peter snapped.

“THAT’S WORSE! HE’S AN ANGSTY TEEN!” Jack screeched.

“My decision is final unless any of you want to challenge my position?” Hobie demanded.

Their arguments fell silent, as Hobie straightened, suddenly seeming far more intimidating. When he received no argument, he nodded. “Alright then, we’re training him. Peter, you will be coming here on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I’ll put my number in your phone to contact you if plans change and we need you here more or less often, understand?”

“Okay, hold on wait, no! No- hell no this is- this is insane! You guys _kidnapped_ me! There’s no way I’m coming to get trained by you!” Peter shouted, running his fingers through his hair, his wrists painfully sore.

Hobie narrowed his eyes, before sighing. “Look, young man, I don’t want to make this harder than this has to be, but you must understand that we will be training you, whether you like it or not, understand?” He repeated, looking somewhat irritated. “You _will_ come here when we call for you to, and you _will_ be trained by us.”

Peter narrowed his eyes, backing away. “And what if I don’t?” He hissed.

Hobie watched him quietly, before taking a breath. “Then we will have to take more drastic measures. You have an Aunt and Uncle you live with, correct? It would be a shame if something… happened to them.” He murmured, glancing at Patton, who immediately looked eager.

Peter felt his heart skip a beat for a moment. “You- no, I won’t let you hurt them!” He snarled.

“You couldn’t beat us before, why do you think next time will be any different? We overpower you, eight to one, you need our training if you ever hope to beat us in a fight.” He growled. “Now, do I need to repeat myself a third time?”

Peter swallowed thickly. He had too many people he cared about, he couldn’t protect them all at once, he had no choice. “...okay…” He whimpered, feeling sick to his stomach.

Hobie nodded. “Alright, I’ll see you here tomorrow. Don’t forget.” He warned. “Rue, show him out.”

The girl nodded, motioning him to follow. He followed quietly, barely holding in his tears, as he hugged his sides and followed the short girl out. As she led him to an elevator, she looked to him and sighed. “Look, Hobie’s a huge softie. He’s just… believe me. This is better than the alternative.”

“What’s the alternative?” Peter mumbled.

Rue glanced at him before replying, “Death.”

Peter swallowed thickly, feeling a chill run down his spine. Rue suddenly stopped, before pulling Peter's phone out of her pocket. "Can you put your passcode in?" She asked, handing it over. 

Peter nodded numbly, handing his phone back quietly, his eyes burning as he tried to comprehend the situation he was in. He didn't have many options, and most of the options he did have weren't in his favor. He took a shuddery breath, before squeezing his eyes shut and looking down. He felt a hand touch his shoulder. "I know this sucks. I don't know what's going through your mind, but believe me. This can be so much worse. You may not believe me, but this is the best option for everyone." She promised. 

Peter shook his head. "How… how the hell is this the best option for me?" 

"Well, you have three routes you can take here. 1, not get trained and have to be killed, 2, not get trained and losing control, THEN getting killed, or 3, getting trained so you can control yourself later on and staying alive. Believe me, those are the only pathways that can occur. Pathway 2 may prolong it the most, but it'll end up happening eventually." She explained. "I know it must really suck like I said, but this is the option that'll keep you alive. Alright?"

Peter shook his head quietly. "There's no situation where I win here." He murmured quietly, still trying to process what's happening. 

Rue patted his shoulder. "Give it time, you'll see I'm right."

The elevator opened and Peter silently followed Rue out, and after a few moments of blindly following, he reached a lobby. Rue patted his shoulder once more as she pressed his phone onto his hand. "I'm sorry it had to be this hard…" She whispered, turning and leaving back towards the elevator. 

Peter just stood there for a few moments, unshed tears for a while. He wasn't quite sure how long he was there, his head spinning as once again he tried to comprehend his situation. Finally, he wiped the tears out of his eyes and began walking out. He glanced at his phone and felt his stomach churn when he saw the time, 4:39. _Harry-_

He had several missed calls as he quickly began walking away. He dialed Harry's number and began walking, his arm wrapped around him and his phone pressed to his ear. Harry answered almost instantly. "Peter! Where are you?!" 

Peter took a breath, his sore throat throbbing, before managing to choke out, "Can you come over?"

He was met with silence for a few moments. "I'll be there in 20. Are you okay?"

Peter felt his lip wobble. _No…_

"I-I just… need someone…"

"Alright, hang tight Pete, I'm on my way."


End file.
